


MyFirstMemory.exe

by starknight



Series: A is for Accidental, B is for Babies, C is for Lister Can’t Spell [2]
Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, POV Kryten (Red Dwarf), Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25858495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starknight/pseuds/starknight
Summary: Kryten’s orders are usually given, scheduled, or yelled, but he came up with this particular one on his own.
Relationships: Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer
Series: A is for Accidental, B is for Babies, C is for Lister Can’t Spell [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876405
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	MyFirstMemory.exe

_**Kryten 2X4B-523P’s System Storage, Day 1095001183 of Active Service © DivaDroid Intl** _

_**> view storage long_term** _

_**loading storage long_term …………………………………………………………….** _

_**storage long_term loaded 100%** _

_**> find Memories / RedDwarf / Year1 / Happy / MyFirstMemory.exe** _

_**> run MyFirstMemory.exe** _

Kryten’s orders are usually given, scheduled, or yelled, but he came up with this particular one on his own. 

He hums as he takes the biscuits out of the oven. They’re perfect, golden-brown on top but with a little give in the middle, and the smell - he activates his nasal unit - is divine. Mister Cat has already mooched his way into licking the bowl, and miraculously presents himself in the door, looking at Kryten with large, expectant eyes.

“Mister Cat,” he smiles. “They’re still a little hot.”

“I’ll wait,” says Cat, and sprawls himself across a barstool.

Kryten continues to potter around the kitchen, fetching two glasses, two bottles, two packets of formula, and -

“Milk?” Cat asks, his eyebrows raising into his hairline. “I thought we were out!”

Kryten holds up his hands as the Cat stalks towards him. 

“Mister Cat, sir, there’s only a very small amount. I was going to divide it for Mister Lister and Mister Rimmer -”

At the murderous expression on the Cat’s face, he closes his mouth, recalibrates, and corrects himself.

“- And you too, of course.”

“Lister doesn’t even like milk. I’ll take his share, too.” The Cat reaches out for one of the glasses, but Kryten bats his hand away. Cat stares at him.

“I will divide the milk three ways,” he says pleasantly. “That will be fair.”

“Then I want more biscuits.”

There are more biscuits here than Kryten needs for his order, so he acquiesces. Cat immediately shoves five freshly-baked biscuits in his mouth, and yells in pain.

“They’re hot!”

“Yes, sir, they’ve just come out of the oven.” Kryten often experiences a low-level frustration around the Cat due to his lack of intelligence, but he does his best to adopt a mild tone.

The Cat jumps around, fanning his mouth, while Kryten busies himself with the formula. It’s lucky that Red Dwarf had so much dehydrated dog’s milk lying around, totally squandered, when the babies were born. With the aid of a few nutrition supplements from the Nova 5, Kryten had come up with what he was sure would be a healthy diet for Misters Jim and Bexley.

He heats the milk using his thermal elbow attachment, and splashes a little on his wrist thermometer. 36.5 degrees Celsius. Perfect.

_ Ting-ting, _ he rings the spoon on the side of the glasses, and sets them on a tray. The formula bottles follow, and then a plate of the ginger biscuits, artfully arranged so that each one overlaps the next.

“Who’s all that for?” the Cat demands, pointing at the display. 

“For Mister Rimmer and Mister Lister and Mister Jim and Mister Bexley,” says Kryten.

“Why?”

Kryten pauses on his way out of the kitchen. He ponders it for a moment. He’s not sure why the order came to him, or why it came to him specifically now. It’s been a few days since the birth, and most of those days have consisted of Lister and Rimmer not sleeping and then complaining about not sleeping. 

It’s almost as though there’s something deeper driving him. Something beyond the orders.

The door of their bunkroom is open, so he steps through without knocking, expecting to see the four of them in whatever chaos they’ve created for themselves this time. But it’s quiet, and until he looks towards the bunks he thinks the room must be devoid of people.

Rimmer, it seems, has given up on Lister ever returning his bunk, and is planning to retake it by occupation. Lister clearly hasn’t got the memo and is squashed into Rimmer’s side, his face pillowed on Rimmer’s shoulder. Kryten can see a small trail of drool vibrating in the wake of Lister’s mighty snores. Rimmer doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, there are three separate patches of drool on Rimmer’s shirt, the other two of which are being produced by Jim and Bexley. They’re curled up, one to each of Rimmer’s arms, their faces snuggled against his chest. The effect is that Rimmer has not one, not two, but three Listers sabotaging his bunk space. 

Kryten opens his mouth to announce his presence, but closes it before he can make a sound. He sets down the biscuits and milk on the table beneath Rimmer’s pink study lamp, turns the lights off, and closes the door behind him.

His central processor issues a mild temperature warning, but he doesn’t mind. He feels warm inside. He saves his memory of the last ten minutes to long-term storage. And he starts to wonder, if he keeps on giving himself orders, perhaps he could feel like this more of the time.

It’s worth a try.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a really strong vision of Lister, Rimmer and the kids cuddling in bed fast asleep that I just had to write. I hope you enjoyed <3 I have some more planned in this series so keep an eye out for more of the lister family! 
> 
> [come yell at my tumblr](https://starknight-dreams.tumblr.com/)


End file.
